The Dance
by TessaStarDean
Summary: A series of drabbles I write for a challenge. The only connecting factor will be that they're all MacStella. K-T ratings.
1. Picture Frame

Stella hummed as she dusted. It was some wordless tune, and Mac thought he recognized it from one of her CDs. Leaning against the doorframe, he watched her move through the room, a small smile on his face.

She moved toward the mantle, picking up each object as she ran the rag across the wood. At the very end, she picked up a silver picture frame, starting at it. Mac felt himself tense, but then Stella smiled, setting the picture back down.

"Does it bother you?" he asked.

She raised an eyebrow at him, seemingly unsurprised at his presence. "No. Why would it?"

He shrugged. "I think it would make most women a little…uncomfortable."

Walking over to him, she rested her hand on his cheek. "Mac, she was your wife. Not some ex-lover or dirty secret that you need to keep locked away in the closet." She gave him a quiet smile. "You'll always love her, and I know that. But I also know that you're mine. Claire is a part of who you are, and I love you."

Blinking back tears, Mac stepped forward and pulled her against his body, burying his face in her hair.

"I love you too," he whispered.


	2. Dance

**This one is slightly angsty, and it's actually featured in both "Something To Talk About" and "The Dance". **

Mac watched her from across the room. She was stunning a green dress that hugged her every curve, and her hair was swept up, leaving her neck delightfully bare. The person she was talking to said something, and she laughed loudly, the sound just barely reaching his ears. It sounded magical, and for a moment, and for a moment, the rest of the world dropped away.

He wondered how he had been a fool for so long. This beautiful, amazing woman had been right in front of him for years, offering herself to him, and he had just brushed by her, never looking up from his own pain and dedication to see it. She had stood by his side for so long that it felt as though she were a part of his body, and he just accepted that she would always be there.

He wasn't sure what had made him realize how much deeper his feelings for her went. But it was like the scales fell away from his eyes one morning, and he realized with ridiculous clarity that he was madly in love with her. The way she moved, the way she talked…everything she did took his breath away, and he knew that he couldn't waste one more day ignoring how he felt.

Smiling at her once more, he moved forward to ask her to dance. As he took that first step, though, Don came up to her side, his arm easily slipping around her waist. Mac stopped and frowned, watching them closely. The way she leaned into him, the way they stood so close together…they smiled at each other in the way that only lovers did.

In truth, he wondered how he had missed it. Both of them had seemed so happy lately, but he hadn't even thought that maybe that was because of any relationship between them. But as the thought back, he saw the stolen glances and hidden touches in his mind.

As he watched Don lead her out onto the dance floor and take her into his arms, Mac realized he had lost his chance a long time ago - and he had no one to blame but himself.


	3. Just a Kiss

Stella couldn't remember ever being this distracted before. Anytime she wasn't focusing on evidence, her mind wandered back to the night before, replaying it over and over again. She kept looking for some glance, or touch, or word that would explain exactly what had happened. But she could find nothing, and it left her feeling nervous and confused.

_"Thanks for dinner, Mac," she said warmly as he hailed her a cab._

_"It was my pleasure. We should do it more often."_

_A cab pulled up, and he opened the door for her. Stella stepped to the edge of the curb and then turned back._

_"We should," she agreed._

_She leaned in to place a kiss on his cheek, but he moved his head suddenly, and their lips met. The kiss was soft and short, and both of them were blushing when they pulled back._

_"Goodnight, Stella," he murmured._

_Still in a daze, she got into the cab and he closed the door after her. By the time she got her voice back, the cab had already pulled away, leaving Mac behind._

Finding herself lost in memory again, Stella shook her head, trying to focus on the paperwork on her desk.

"Get a grip, girl," she muttered. "It was just a kiss."

"Talking to yourself?"

She jumped slightly and looked up to see Mac standing in her doorway. Blushing, she ducked her head.

"Long day."

Mac smiled. "Well, it's almost over." He paused. "Would you like to get dinner tonight?"

Her head shot up and her eyes met his. She saw the way his hands were stuffed into his pockets, and the nervous smile on his face. Trying to quell her own butterflies, she nodded.

"I'd love to."

He nodded. "Good. I'll come back in a couple hours." On his way out, he turned back. "And Stella?"

"Yeah?"

Mac grinned. "It was more than just a kiss."


	4. Drink

Stella watched him sitting in his office, a glass in his hand. He wasn't one to drink often, but she knew about the bottle of scotch he kept locked in the bottom drawer of his desk. They all had days when they needed a drink to numb the pain.

Leaning against the doorframe, she finally spoke. "You know what they say about drinking alone."

He didn't even turn around; he simply kept his eyes locked on the city outside. "No one to drink with."

She couldn't quite explain it, but his words cut her deeply. A weight settled on her chest, and she found herself fighting back tears. Standing up straight, she turned to leave.

"You've never had to drink alone, Mac," she said quietly.

And then she was gone.


End file.
